


The Price of Loyalty

by Dopamineandducks



Category: Thor - All Media Types, Thor - Fandom
Genre: Action & Romance, Action/Adventure, F/M, Loki Needs a Hug, Loki digs a Midgardian a fraction his age, Miðgarðr | Midgard, References to Norse Religion & Lore, Unresolved Romantic Tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-09-02
Updated: 2017-09-02
Packaged: 2018-12-22 21:40:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11975583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dopamineandducks/pseuds/Dopamineandducks
Summary: For unknown reasons, Loki decides to save a family when their farm is attacked by trolls. To show their gratitude, they reluctantly swear their loyalty to the Trickster God, though Siggi is the one who has to prove it.





	The Price of Loyalty

**Author's Note:**

> Howdy y'all! kinda backish with a Sigyn/Loki piece (feels weird to not be doing a Sif/Loki thing...). I've been reading some comics (Namely the Trials of Loki by Roberto Aguirre-Sacasa) and was inspired by the story in which Loki randomly decides to save a mortal family from a troll attack. I thought "what would happen if Sigyn was in that family?" I guess we'll see.
> 
> Much love!  
> xoxo the Duck

The trolls came back, just like they promised. They came midafternoon when the sun was hanging high in the cloudless sky and beating the farm with exorbitant heat. Siggi was helping her papa tend to the goats while her mama worked in the garden, her baby brother Dagfinn strapped to Mama’s back. It was like any other afternoon.

A weak summer breeze lilted through the farm, caressing Siggi’s sweat-drenched face. She wiped her brow and inhaled the breeze. She coughed as a foul odor made her hair stand on end. She glanced around, wondering if one of the goats just relieved itself and noticed Papa making the same sour face.

“What is that, Papa?” she asked, covering her mouth as the smell intensified. It smelled of sulfur and tree rot, a smell so unbearable that her eyes began to water.

Papa scanned the horizon, but there was nothing to be seen in the fields between their property and the forest line that encircled them.

“Something must have died,” Papa said. “Go look over there. Make sure it wasn’t one of our animals.” He gestured vaguely towards the field and wandered off to search in the opposite direction.

Siggi picked her way through the tall grass, eyes scanning the ground for any tracks or clues of an animal attack. The odor grew stronger as she approached the forest. She gagged as the odor intensified and doubled over. Her mouth watered with the threat of vomit.

Then she heard Papa yell her name.

She breathed deeply through her mouth, willing herself not to be sick. “What?” she yelled, looking back at him.

He ran towards her as fast as he could. “Run, Siggi! Get in the house!”

Before she could ask why, she heard gurgling laughter from the forest. She spun around to see three massive trolls with clubs slung over their shoulders emerge from the trees. They each wore a lopsided smirk stained pink from blood. Their smell was enough to fell a god. She recognized one of them in a heartbeat. Ulog, a mountainous, green skinned troll marched towards them flanked by who she assumed were his brothers. For months now, Ulog had been harassing their farm, destroying their crops and eating their goats. The troll did not count on her papa being anything more than a farmer and expected an easy meal. Though Ulog quickly found out the fierce warrior Papa was and the reason why he was sought after for the chieftain’s yearly raids across the sea. During their last encounter, Papa managed to slice Ulog from maw to ear and sever three of his fingers. Ulog retreated, frothing and furious, declaring he’d return again with his brothers. Today apparently was that day.

A moment or two passed before she was able to make her frozen legs move. She took off towards Papa, pumping her legs as hard as she could. A chorus of laughter erupted as she and Papa ran towards their sod house. Mama was already inside pulling Papa’s sword from its mount on the wall. Dagfinn screamed.

“Be prepared to run,” Papa told Mama as he took the sword. He grabbed the blade with his barehand and swore vehemently as the edges made gentle imprints on his palm. Siggi flinched. She was supposed to hone his blade after his last encounter with Ulog. “Pray to Odin, Thor, and Tyr to help us,” Papa said to them all. “Pray hard.” He kissed Mama and hurled himself outside to meet their foes

Anxious to see what was unfolding in the field, but too terrified to actually witness it, Siggi stared at the front door, paralyzed. She heard the troll voices rumble, though couldn’t decipher what they were saying. Mama smacked her shoulder.

“Pray, Siggi,” she said as she grabbed her hand tightly. “Pray to the gods to smite these devils once and for all.”

Siggi winced from the strength of her Mama’s grip as she rapidly begged Odin and Thor for aid. Having just spit up all over himself and Mama’s shoulder, Dagfinn screamed until he hiccupped and gasped. Siggi was growing faint. Her chest heaved as if she were sprinting. She could hear her Papa shouting outside, the trolls laughing, and goats screaming. Tears blurred her eyes.

“Pray!” Mama hissed, jerking her hand.

Siggi’s eyes fluttered shut as she frantically muttered her own prayers. “Hail to thee, Odin, All-Father of All Realms. Hail to thee Thor, mightiest of All-Father’s sons. Hail to thee Balder, kindest and most loved of gods, hear our cry for help—”

“’Allo what ‘ave we ‘ere? Two lil’ chickies without their guard?”

Siggi jumped and faced the window to see a massive, black eye peering into their house. She shrieked and fell to the floor. Mama took a cooking knife from the mantel and hurled it at the window. The blade found purchase in the troll’s pupil. It shrieked, shaking the house and rattling everything inside. Siggi clapped her hands to her ears to blot out the sound.

“You bitch! Tha’ was me eye!” The troll said. “You’ll fucking pay for tha’!”

It swung its club through the roof, destroying the upstairs loft where Mama, Papa, and Dagfinn slept. Mama scooped Siggi out of the way just as their bed crashed to the floor.

“Run!” Mama said, pushing her to the door. Half running, half stumbling, Siggi bolted as the troll dealt another devastating blow to their house. She ran down the hill before she stopped to catch her breath. She spun around, afraid Mama didn’t make it out, but saw her sprinting towards her with the baby clutched to her chest. The troll continued to lay waste to their house, spouting furious epithets at her “whore” mother.

Behind her house, black smoke plumed in the sky. Their barn was engulfed in flames with fire quickly spreading to the dry grass. The sound of the goats crying was blood curdling.

Mama quickly unwrapped Dagfinn and pressed him into Siggi’s arms. “Take your brother and run to safety. Run to Hrorik’s property and send help. Stay there and wait for me.” Without waiting for a response, Mama turned heel and ran towards Papa who was struggling in his fight with the other two trolls. Siggi turned to run to Hrorik’s farm five miles to the west, but stopped when she heard Papa scream Mama’s name. She watched as one of the trolls lifted its gray, rocky foot and kick her mother ten feet.

“Mama!”

She ran towards her parents before she realized what she was doing.

“Where you think you’re going you li’l rat?”

The troll who had just destroyed her house approached her, dark red blood pouring from his eye. His lips twitched in a frenzied snarl and his fingers curled tightly around his spiked club. Siggi stared at each protruding barb, reckoning that one hit would be enough to kill her and her brother ten times over. She was helpless: she had no weapon to even give her a fighting chance. Even if she did, she was still battling scarecrows in her training, not nearly advanced enough to take on a troll. She also had her brother to worry about. There was no safe place to put him that wouldn’t result in him getting squashed, or—worse—eaten.

She held her brother tightly as she slowly backed away. She could try and run for it, but the monster would catch up with her easily. Her only hope rested in her ability to out maneuver the beast; to dart away like a sparrow from an eagle.

The troll charged her. She wasted precious milliseconds gasping before she backed up to run. The troll hefted its weapon above its head, but just as it was about strike, a man appeared in front of her and ran the beast through with a spear. Before Siggi could make sense of what was happening, the man withdrew the spear and slashed at the troll’s throat with swift precision. Blood spurted from the wound like a geyser as the troll toppled over.

Just as quickly as he appeared, the man vanished in a green blur. Siggi stood there, staring at the twitching troll corpse, frantically trying to make sense of everything. The other trolls began to scream. She looked just in time to see the man withdraw the spear from one troll’s forehead and spin around, swinging the weapon in an upward arc, to lob off the head of the other troll. The body hit the ground in a limp heap as the severed head rolled down the hill like a boulder. Quiet settled on the farm. The crackling fire and bleating goats seemed muted.

Siggi saw Papa kneeling in the grass and ran to him. He knelt over Mama’s body, grasping her shoulders and shaking her gently.

“Gyda,” he said, “Gyda can you hear me?”

Mama groaned. “Yes. Help me up.”

Relief washed over Papa’s face as he gently pulled her to her feet. She wavered, but stood as tall as she could despite having been kicked by a troll. He grabbed Siggi by the shoulder and pulled her close for a tight hug. Dagfinn continued to cry.

“Calm your brother and help your mother,” he instructed and turned towards the man who had saved their lives. Siggi stood beside Mama, offering her shoulder for support, which Mama happily leaned against.

 The man stood with his back to Papa, gingerly cleaning troll blood from his blade. Siggi couldn’t see much of him besides that he was taller than Papa and wore a strange gold helm with curved horns that resembled one of their goats.

“I thank you for saving my family,” Papa said, “Whoever you are, you are eternally a friend and I am in your debt.”

The man turned and planted the butt of his spear into the ground. The way he stood reminded Siggi of a king.

“What is a debt to an answered prayer,” the man asked, his voice dark like water. The goats bleated wildly as the burning barn crumbled to the ground. The man waved his hand in the direction of the barn, his hand flexed like a claw. Smoky green tendrils shot out of the earth and consumed the flames before twisting out of existence, snuffing the fire out to a pitiful smolder Siggi gasped--she had never seen magic before.

Papa’s mouth parted, a tremendous expression on his usually stoic face. A subtle smirk appeared on the man’s face as he lifted his chin slightly higher. Papa looked at the man with cautious curiosity. “Who are you?”

The man’s lips pursed, obviously annoyed. “None other than Loki, Prince of Asgard.” He lifted his chin and looked down his nose at them.

It was Mama’s turn to gasp as she dug her fingers into Siggi’s shoulder. Even Papa looked momentarily taken aback. Siggi was familiar with Loki’s legends: the trickster god who caused more trouble in Asgard than he was decidedly worth. He was often depicted as a bent monster with a crooked nose, a physical reflection of his heart. Yet standing before them, he looked nothing like illustrations. He was tall and straight, slim but solid, and his face angular, but not disfigured. He had all the grace and majesty as one would expect of a more beloved god, which confused Siggi. She stared at him willing her brain to accept his fair appearance.

Still, his stories were not heartening. Though there were accounts of him aiding his brother Thor in heroic ventures across the realms, there were also tales of his misdeeds **:** stories ranging from sheering the goddess Sif’s golden locks off in a cruel jest to attempting to sacrifice the goddess Idunn to save his own skin from an enraged giantess. To get tangled in with the God of Mischief could not bode well for her family.

“My Lord,” Papa said coolly as he knelt before him. Mama followed suit, bracing against Siggi as they lowered to their knees. “Thank you for answering our prayers. We are undeserving of your mercy. How can we repay you?”

Siggi watched Loki observe her family, his face unreadable but gaze calculating. For a brief moment, his piercing blue eyes locked with hers. A jolt of fear coursed through her body before he looked away dismissively.

“Pray to me,” he said finally. Papa looked up to the god towering over him. “Pray to me and only me. Spread my glory and your family’s debt will be settled.”

Mama clenched her jaw at this proposition. For as long as Siggi had been alive, Mama had only prayed to Odin, mightiest of gods and father of everything. To pray to his wretch of a son was unthinkable.

“Of course, my lord,” Papa said without hesitation. “We are your grateful servants.”

The Trickster God’s lips twitched in a pleased grin. “Never forget what I, your god, have done for you.”

“We won’t, my lord,” Papa said.

Loki nodded in approval and took a step back. The world tore behind him, exposing a black void in the middle of a summer afternoon. Siggi’s breath caught in her throat; she had never seen anything more terrifying in her life. Loki stepped into the void and closed the rip behind him, wisps of green smoke flitting around the tear like needle and thread. No trace of Loki’s presence was left after the wisps dissipated.

Papa rose and turned to them. Mama struggled to her feet, again using Siggi’s shoulder for support. Papa’s face was stony, the life in his blue eyes dimmed.

“Help your Mama and brother back to the house,” Papa said solemnly, “Then go sharpen my blade.” He dropped his sword unceremoniously at her feet and stalked off towards the smoldering barn. A weight settled in Siggi’s chest. The blame for their unlucky debt was squarely on her shoulders.

Mama gingerly took Dagfinn back, cooing comforts to him as she limped towards what remained of their house. Siggi picked up her father’s sword and clutched it close, as if revering it would make up for her previous neglect, and trudged to the whetting stone. The icy eyes of the Trickster God burned in her memory.


End file.
